Drama by Georgia Okley, 1h37
Young British director Georgia Oakley’s debut film, Blue Jean, feels like an uppercut. Set in the conservative England of Margaret Thatcher, it paints the portrait of a physical education teacher forced to conceal her homosexuality. Especially after the vote for “Section 28”, a law stigmatizing the gay community, which has become an electoral campaign argument for the “Iron Lady” party. By filming the intimacy of Jean (hence the title), short peroxidized hair, Georgia Oakley shows a silent young woman who conceals part of her personality. In this homophobic climate in the United Kingdom at the end of the 1980s, Jean must at all times be on the lookout, watch his words. Blue Jean, audience award at the last Venice Film Festival in the Venice Days section, demonstrates great stylistic mastery, as well as a beautiful narrative sensitivity. At the heart of this powerful historical drama, the young actress Rosy McEwen, whose presence evokes both Nicole Kidman and Rosamund Pike, gives the full measure of her talent by composing a complex character, with an exciting journey. O.D.
Documentary by Nicolas Philibert, 1h49
Welcome to the Adamant. This superb all-wooden boat, which seems to wake up every morning when its blinds are rolled up and its shutters half-open, was inaugurated in 2010. It is one of the links in the care pathway offered by the psychiatric center of Paris Center for patients in the first four districts of the capital. They are in care, at home or on the street, but we will not know. Nicolas Philibert’s idea is to pick them on this boat which seems like a miracle amidst the noises of the city and the lapping of the Seine. L’Adamant has the false air of an ideal entertainment center for older children. Sewing, cinema, jam, drawing workshops… There is an associative café and musical instruments, sofas and books. No one in a white coat and everything is a pretext for discussion. The director captures the light moments. He lets the word come without rushing. There are flashes of lucidity and chasms opening up. Confessions rain down. “We cure madness, I want to heal. “ I’ve never had a job, poetry isn’t one, right? “‘Go and see who I am over there'” this documentary filmmaker usually says, filming children (Being and Having), orangutans (Nénette) and already patients (La Moindre des choses) with the same humanist focus and the same extreme attention. The mirror is disturbing. We come out of the jostled Adamant, the faces of “ these actors without knowing it” engraved in memory. Holy stars, indeed. F.D.
Drama by Jean-Baptiste Durand, 1h33
Dog and Mirales. Their nicknames are not innocent. Dog is Damien (Anthony Bajon), silent and shy. Mirales (Raphaël Quenard) is Antoine, chatterbox and talker. They are almost thirty years old and live in a small village. Dog kills time playing PlayStation. Mirales does nothing with her CAP as a cook. He deals bars of hash, walks with his dog, Malabar. He lives with his depressed mother. For his first feature film, Jean-Baptiste Durand talks about what he knows. He films a village in Hérault during the off-season. The streets are empty. The shutters closed. Boredom everywhere. Chien de la casse is a village film, as one speaks of a suburban film. It shows a rather rare suburban youth on French screens. In the United States, they are called underdogs. Less than a dog. It’s powerful fiction, the tale of a toxic friendship. One thinks of La Boétie and voluntary servitude. Chien de la casse records the birth of a filmmaker. Durand is less than thirty years old. He is full of talent. Looking forward to his second feature film. E.S.
Comedy by Dany Boon, 1h50
It’s brutal. The hero grew up at Club Med in Yucatan, so his name is Tridan (laughs). Later, someone will call it Strident (humor), or else it will be Freedent (there, we will still point out that it is a brand of toothpaste. Really?). The tone is set. Hang on to your chair. At eight years old, he was in love with a little Violette. He never saw her again. The simpleton stayed in the tropics to host shows for tourists. At fifty, he decides to find his sweetheart. It lasts, drags on. Dany Boon is undoubtedly a nice person. He’s been so successful that if he reads a dishwasher manual, his producers laugh. They will be the only ones. Telephone replies, agreed situations, ugliness of the images, Life for real fascinates like a projection of slides at a friend’s house who continues the jokes at the end of the meal from the aperitif. Dany Boon, who had his teeth whitened (the only thing to remember from the session), plays simpletons. He takes us mostly for idiots. IN.
